The Emporia weekly news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1881-1889, 1887-01-06
GENTLEMAN.

~ jenny! ealu announcer. EEOm
such little monster.
An old gentleman who was reading
glanced up from his pamphlet. The |
back. His face, which was bent back
on his shoulders, twitched suddenly at
the girls words, but he did not look to-
ward her, IS he stood waiting for his
money. The old gentleman's grave
look Of rebuke angered the girl.
cit makes me sickr' she said, with q
look of disgust. 'sThe conductor ought
not to allow him to come on board.
The boy turned and looked at her
steadily. Everybody on the car ex-
pected q torrent Of vile abuse, but he
said. gently:
Elf the Beast was not here, the peo-
pie on the car would not appreciate the
Beauty at her real value" and then
bowling to her, he went out. amid the
smiles of all the passengers.
The old gentleman-who was we'll
known physician, DIR. Avery-followed
him. but he was already out Of sight.
"Who is that boyP" he asked the con-
ductor.
s.His names Willy, and his route is
on this street don't know anything
more"
..He has an educated voice. and he
showed good breeding and sense just
now"
mo doubt The other newsboys call
him Gentleman Bill Everybody likes
him. We conductors give him the free
dom of the cars on this street"
A few days afterwards. DR.. Avery was
on a car late IN the evening, when Will
| ly came in. carrying large bundle of
| papers. He sold none, and turned to
go out, looking discouraged and anx-
ious.
DR.. Avery stopped him, drew out
paper, and handing him 8 piece Of
silver, said, '.Never mind the change"
mo, thank you," said the boy, smil-
ing, as he gave it to him.
"Why not, young independence"
81 don't need aims sir. really get
on very well. And if did
You would not take it?''
sit would be the hardest thing ever
had to do. Good-eyening, sir?" and
touching his cap, the little hunchback
swung himself off the car.
| DIR. Avery after that often met the
boy, who puzzled and interested him.
There was nothing morbid in him; he
| was always ready with laugh or q merry
| answer. His voice was controlled and
gentle, and there was a fine courtesy, a
tact, a delicate feeling, in all his words,
that we do not find sometimes in those
who call themselves gentlemen. In
spite of the boys wretched clothes and
patched shoes, DR.. Avery found him
self talking to him as to an equal, and
always thought of him as his little
friend.
Late one night when it was storm
ing heavily, he met him, trudging down
Chestnut street
"You have q hard life, my boy" he
said, kindly.
..Not so hard as you think. sir" he
said, cheerfully. 81 am never sick an
hour. Then do better business than
other boys because of-tbis," glancing
down on his deformed body.
''Ohr'
| The doctor was confused for a min
ute.
Have you any plans, WillyP Do
you ever look forwardP'
''Yes. Oh, have it all planned out!
If could save enough to start q street
stall of books and papers, then after .
year or two 1 would be able to open a
shop, and then q big store. Some
men who began that way in Philadel-
phia have become publishers, and live
in beautiful houses of their own"
"Hilloi Do goa care for fine housesP"
"Not for myself. sir"
He became suddenly silent, and al
the corner of the next street said Good
nightp' and ran away.
A moment later DR.. Avery heard cries
and shouts in the direction which Willy
had taken; but such things are COM
mon in great city. He hurried home.
The next morning, looking over the
paper, he read:
"a little hunchback newsboy, known e.
runaway horse last night. DIR. Johns pro
nounced the injuries mortal. The lad was
taken to the Penn Hospital
DR.. Avery was soon beside the cot
on which the misshapen little body
was laid.
Willy looked up. trying to smile. ''It
is not SO bad as they say, is it? can't
die now! have too much to do"
'What have you to do, my boyf
Let me be your friend; let me- help you,
if can"
al thought you would come, maybe.
haven't ybody to come. The boys
are good friends, but they couldn't dc
anything now"
II have come, you see. Tell me what
can do, my boy"
The lad waited until the nurse had
passed his cot, and then whispered:
'.lt's Lefty, sir. She is my sister.
/ AOok
Media. She goes to school there. II
taKes all can make to pay her board
and buy her clothes. / like to see bel
look nice" His mind began to wan.
der, and he began to mutter st inter.
walls.
eff could start the stall-the shop
q carriage for Lefty"
The doctor was forced TO leave him
When he came back in the afternoon.
he was rational. and when the doctor
wished to go for his sister, said:
''No. don't bring Lefty here. She
mustn't know how poor am. When
go out on Sundays to see her / have my
good suit on. She calls me 9 swell.
Yes. she does" laughing, but with tears
In his eyes. III went once with some
papers to a Quaker boarding-school for
; girls near town, sir. They were such
lovely young ladies, always thought
I'd send Lefty there when / could gel
the money. But now"
DIR. Avery found out his story by de.
grees. He and Lefty we're the children
Of q planter near Savannah. Their
. mother was In Philadelphia during the
war. Her husband was killed, heF
slaves and property were gone. She
j struggled for years, teaching and sew
ing, 70 support them. and at last died,
, leaving why IA euSFke oI Ms Httls sls'
tGF.
Sand your names"
''My father was Charles Gilbert"
DR.. Avery drew his breath quickly.
81 knew Charles Gilbert IL Savannah
long ago. No wonder your voice seemed
, familiar, aud that was drawn 70 you
% strongly. Bot you are my friend foE
your own sake. my boy"
That evening DR.. Avery sent . long
, despatch TO Q lawyer IN Savannah.
where be once lived and etill had busl.
ness interests he took two Of the pFiu.
cipal surgeons IN the city to examine
IWlily.
When they had gone out for consulta.
ton, tho boy lay, holding his hand.
Watching the door, breathing quick and
hard.
'Do you want TO live. WiIIyP You
have had hard life, my child"
{ oh no, no! did not think it hard